She kept silent. I checked the phone; I had spent four minutes on the call. My
colleague gave me puzzled looks as to why I had to use his phone.
‘Ananya? I said, do you miss me?’
‘What’s the point? Say, I forgive you, what will change? Will your mother
change? Will her bias towards me, towards South Indians, towards the girl’s
change?’
‘She is good at heart, Ananya. Believe me she is, ‘ I said.
‘Oh really, why don’t you have her apologise to my parents then?’ she said.
It was my turn to stay silent.
‘See,’ she said.
‘She is sensitive about everything right now.’
‘No, she has a chip on her shoulder about being from the groom’s side.’
I let out a sigh. ‘Ananya, what happened to our plans to elope? Run away with
me,’ I said.
‘And go where? To my caring, nurturing mother-in-law?’ Ananya said, ‘No, I
want to marry where my parents are treated as equals.’
‘You should have been born as a boy,’ I said.
‘That’s so sexist, I would have hung up if I didn’t care for you.’
‘Do you care or not? Don’t you love me? Isn’t our love above everything?’
‘Don’t ask impractical questions,’ she said, her voice heavy.
‘Can I do anything? Anything?’ I said desperately.
‘Don’t call me again. Help me get over this,’ She said.
‘I love you,’ I said.
‘Bye, Krish.’
nora
(Nora)
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